


Wake Me Up When September Ends

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 15:31:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>xposted to fanfiction.net</p><p>Music: "Wake Me Up When September Ends" by Green Day</p></blockquote>





	Wake Me Up When September Ends

 

Why did Aomine take this job? Oh, right, because it’s a job, and they agreed to pay him and his parents have been telling him to get off the couch ever since he’s been home and of course they’re right because it’s been years since he’s had an actual job and he doesn’t need the money but he’s so bored and he can’t just be a stupid man-child forever. Even he can’t be young and stupid forever, and his body tells him that every day. He’s only sort of in shape, because Midorima will show up a couple of times a month and drag him to the gym and mutter something about “the physical therapy I gave you” not being wasted but honestly Aomine doesn’t care. His knee is full of scar tissue, and he wonders if he’ll break it just doing these sprints around the track (although Midorima assures him that’s not the case and he’s not straining it at all, which Aomine knows but tries to deny). He doesn’t want to be active, resists doing anything at all that’s related to basketball.

 

But of course, hanging out with Midorima means hanging out with Takao and Takao is a teacher and the private all-girls’ high school he works at has just started a basketball team and they need a coach. Takao has refused because he does always seem to have a lot on his plate already, but he recommended Aomine and while Aomine hates people and doesn’t particularly like Takao or Midorima all that much they’re the only people he keeps regular contact with besides his parents and he really does need something to do besides reading cheap erotic novels and playing MMORPGs, so he can’t fuck this up.

 

Takao has evidently told all of his own students to come, because there are a lot of unenthusiastic schoolgirls at the interest meeting. Most of them know absolutely nothing about it, but Takao has promised them extra credit or something. He just shows them a few basic things and tells them all to attempt it. Most of the girls are too apprehensive and leave after signing the sheet, but some of them give it a go and most of them seem to have at least some potential. He tells the ones who have remained to come back the next day. They have a long way to go, especially if they don’t even know anything about basketball. Oh, well. It will be challenging and he has a good idea of where they are.

 

But then again, he doesn’t know where to begin. So he yells at Takao when they go out for drinks that night and Takao just shrugs. He says there must be some athletic girls, at least, because these girls are all pretty out-of-shape, but Takao says he doesn’t have any in his classes and Aomine has to go and recruit them himself. Luckily, there will be an open-house for accepted students soon and each club will present. No self-respecting basketball player will be thrilled with the basketball team in its current state, and most wouldn’t even consider attending this school but if their parents are pushing them to attend and focus on their academics, an ex-NBA player coaching the team could attract them, and please both them and their parents. On the other hand, will they know who he is? Aomine feels an odd self-doubt. It doesn’t sit right inside him; he’s always confident. But now he doesn’t know what to believe.

* * *

 

He’s got the girls watching basketball videos and reading basketball books and basically living basketball when they’re not studying. (Why did this have to be such an elite academic school?) But these girls know how to study and are all quick learners, and they’re all smart and motivated. Which, of course, is the opposite of Aomine but they’ll do. They’re all good kids, and they’re all really getting to like basketball. They pepper him with questions about when he used to play, and he shrugs but plays them a few old tapes he has of his own high school days. They’re quite impressed, but he refuses to demonstrate very much.

 

The truth is, he doesn’t know if he can still do it.

 

He asks one of his favorites, a first-year called Ishikawa, if she knows any athletic girls who play on other teams who’d like to try basketball. She shrugs and says she’ll try to recruit people next year for the club, and she’ll help out on prospective students’ night, which will be a help. But none of the other teams are very good, and most of the girls are just dutifully putting in hours for another extracurricular to add to their college applications.

 

Prospective students’ night arrives. The third-years, who apparently make up half of the “team” as it is now, are preparing to graduate. A few girls approach the table tentatively, but then they see the math team table and off they go. He sees a girl with toned legs, but off she goes to the tennis team table. Fuck. He exchanges a nervous glance with Ishikawa. He looks back up, and finally, finally, someone is approaching. Her eyes light up when she reads the sign.

 

“Uncle! Uncle! I’ve found it!” she calls.

 

“Welcome!” Ishikawa says. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

 

She and the younger girl smile at one another, and they both seem at ease. Good. Now that Aomine can get a good look at her, he can tell that she’s fidgeting with something in her pocket but it just seems to be a bad habit. Fidgety kids tend to be more active; he read that in an internet article. Her arm seems well-toned and her expression is confident. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a bun and it’s completely out of her eyes. Very serious, but only serious young women get in here in the first place.

 

He realizes it’s his turn to talk. “I’m Aomine Daiki, the basketball coach. Have you ever played before?”

 

“Oh, my gosh! You’re Aomine-sama?” she squeals, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. “For real? I mean, I thought you looked like him and all, but…no way! I had no idea you were a coach!”

 

This is the first time in a long time he’s had an encounter with a fan, and it’s…weird. It’s flattering, but it’s something he’d thought he was done with. No one’s been completely star-struck since before the injury, and is she even old enough to remember him playing? She would have been very young, but perhaps if she was a big basketball fan?

 

“Er…yeah,” he says.

 

Ishikawa snorts at his tension (okay, they’ll definitely have to do more sprints at practice tomorrow). And then a tall man walks over and claps Aomine’s new number one fan on the shoulder.

 

“So this is the basketball team, eh, Karin-chan?” And he turns around and blue eyes meet golden and ohh fuck this could not have gotten any worse. “Eh? Aomine…san?” The honorific sounds strange coming from him, and Aomine can tell it feels strange for him to say it, not least of all because he knows that mouth very well and he tells his brain to stop thinking these thoughts because they’re very inappropriate right now.

 

“Kise.”

 

“Wait, Uncle, you know Aomine-sama?” Karin squeals. “And you didn’t tell me?”

 

Kise shrugs. “I didn’t know you were such a big fan of his.”

 

“Please, write your name down on the sign-up sheet,” Ishikawa interrupts.

 

“Oh! Of course!” Karin takes the pen and jots down her information.

 

“Great,” Kise says, checking his watch. “It’s getting late. I think we should get out of here.”

 

“But we just got here!” she whines. “Please? I need to talk to Aomine-sama!”

 

“You can talk to him later. Come on.”

 

And they leave, Karin protesting all the way.

 

The good thing about Ishikawa is that she doesn’t ask. She’s very observant, but she doesn’t pry. She deduces things, and if she later turns out to be wrong she revises her hypotheses. So she won’t pry right now. She just looks at Aomine, and yeah it makes him a little uncomfortable but at least she’s not asking the awkward questions and further airing out old feelings he’d buried deep inside of himself.

* * *

 

It’s a week into the new school year (and basketball practice) before Karin approaches him again. She’s hung on his every word during meetings and practices, as if he’s some sort of basketball god (which may have been true fifteen years ago but certainly is not true now. He’s been going to the gym more often because he needs to be in better shape and because now that he’s working he has less time to hang out with Midorima and he actually kind of likes the guy more than he realizes, but neither of them will ever say it to one another like that because that would sound totally like a love confession and Midorima saves all of his deredere moments for Takao and that’s the way it should be. They’re lucky to have one another, and they’re really too kind to let Aomine be the third wheel all the time.

 

But Karin’s enthusiasm has been backed up by her skill. She’s quite talented, obviously related to Kise (come to think about it, he does remember one of Kise’s sisters having a young daughter but he’s never actually met her) and very motivated. Her teammates are not on her level yet (if they ever will be) but she plays down to where they are happily.

 

They’re all leaving, going to eat or going home to do the endless piles of homework they always have but Karin stays. She’s dressed in her uniform, but still wears her basketball sneakers, and carries a basketball under her arm. She snaps a quick bounce pass to Aomine. The ball goes into his hands almost of its own accord.

 

“Yes?” He raises an eyebrow.

 

“My uncle told me you knew him, but he wouldn’t tell me any more.”

 

He passes it back, hard. She stumbles backward.

 

“It’s not really any of your business, especially if he doesn’t want to tell you anything.”

 

“But I want to know!” she whines.

 

“It’s the past.” He turns away. “There are some things everyone doesn’t want to think about. And he’s one for me. Now go home, I’m sure you have studying to do.”

* * *

 

She doesn’t mention the conversation again. Their first practice match against a fairly good team is coming up, and everyone is getting ready. He walks down the school halls and sees Ishikawa reaching up her arms to block an invisible basketball as she studies for a math test. Minamoto, the point guard, is studying different plays mixed in with her biology notes. Karin is nowhere to be found, but she’ll show up.

 

She does. The entire team is ready to present themselves to the world of high school basketball, and Aomine is struck by their resemblance to the Seirin team in mentality. Indeed, playing in an actual game is an adjustment for most of them, but they settle in and adapt and keep in the game all the way. Karin sinks a three-pointer to tie the game at the buzzer and they head into overtime. Their opponents have an excellent passing rhythm, but Aomine’s team breaks it up quite well and they pull ahead at the end of OT and win by eight points.

 

He doesn’t expect Kise to have come to the game, but Kise’s there. He seems to be in full support of his niece’s basketball aspirations, and his modeling schedule has always been flexible. Karin drags him over to talk to Aomine, who wants to kill himself right now or at least hide somewhere but there’s nowhere to go.

 

At least Kise also looks uncomfortable. “Really, Karin, I should get going…”

 

“No, Sensei wants to play basketball with you. He told me.” It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Karin planned this, whether simply for her own amusement or to be able to learn more about basketball from watching two former stars face off.

 

“No, I didn’t,” Aomine says.

 

Kise gives Aomine a _look_ that makes him almost fall apart, and shrugs. “Okay. I’ll play.”

 

Come to think of it, the prospect is a bit intriguing. But he hasn’t played basketball at all really in more than ten years, and Kise looks like he’s in good shape (Aomine wants to see those muscles with more clarity more than he’d admit, wonders if they’ve changed in the way they’re defined against his bones and flesh) but this is his gym, and maybe this will get Karin off his back (for a while, at least; she _is_ related to her uncle, after all—but perhaps the rest of the team will stop bugging him about going out there and showing off his moves for them because he’ll have actually done it for them) and he wants to, he misses Kise all the time even though he tells himself he’s over it and that it’s all in the past. He misses Kise’s hands in his, Kise’s arms around him, Kise’s lips all over his body, Kise’s voice in his ear, Kise’s hand passing a basketball to his, Kise’s sweat and short breath as they play one-on-one. He dreams about it, wakes up with empty arms expecting one person in them. Maybe this will help close the door, he thinks, but part of him knows he’s being naïve.

 

Aomine nods.

 

“One-on-one?” Kise asks and it’s a jolt back into the past. They’re not wearing the proper clothes, both in suits and ties, but that will do for now. It will have to. They whip off their suit jackets, and Karin calls the rest of the team over (they’ve been standing to the side, uncertain). There haven’t been that many other spectators, a couple of teachers and parents, but most of them have left along with the other team. Takao is still there, and he flashes a thumbs-up at Aomine.

 

“Show us what you got, coach!” Minamoto cheers.

 

“Sure,” Aomine says. He can feel a bit of the old confidence building inside of him. “You want to do the tip-off?”

 

“Sure!” she says, and she brings over the basketball.

 

Aomine’s taller and he’s still got a decent vertical leap, despite his fucked-up knee. It surprises Kise, and that surprise allows him to steal the ball and run down the court. It seems longer than he remembered, and Kise catches up to him, blocking the ball when he tries to shoot it and stealing it for himself. He shoots a three-pointer before Aomine can get there, but it’s all coming back to Aomine now and he doesn’t mind the early deficit. He grabs the ball and speeds down the court, remembering exactly how many steps it takes to cross the hardwood floor from basket to basket and he effortlessly leaps again and dunks, hanging on the rim for a second before dropping.

 

“Don’t showboat!” Kise scolds, but they’re both grinning through the perspiration that’s started to pop up on their faces.

 

“You’ll have to beat me before you can tell me that,” Aomine replies.

 

Kise’s off, dribbling fast and unpredictably but Aomine gets back in time to watch him, try to outthink him even though they still can’t play mental games with one another. Still, after ten years, they can fall back into the old routines and they know one another too well. Kise fakes; Aomine lazily tries to block but recognizes the fake for what it is. After all, there’s no one to pass to. Kise looks like he’s trying to channel Midorima but he knows it’s one of those weird jumping dunks so he waits to block it, moves backward and leaps into the air, punching the ball out of Kise’s hands.

 

“Is that even legal?” Ishikawa wonders aloud.

 

They don’t care. Kise’s too busy trying to steal the ball back from Aomine.

 

Eventually, Aomine feels his knee screaming and pauses, leaning up against a bleacher, drenched in sweat. Kise senses his pain and holds the ball, not dribbling but not approaching. Aomine would like to lean on him, but there are memories rising to the surface of how he yelled at Kise for hovering over him when he was first hurt, when he snapped time after time…

 

So he says it. “Kise? Help?”

 

And Kise comes over and offers him a hand and pulls him up and Aomine collapses on top of him and Kise sighs dramatically. “I’m sorry; I overdid it. I let you overdo it.” But he’s only half-serious, imitating the clingy way he was before and he gently picks up Aomine and he feels incredibly undignified as the entire team (and Takao, why is he still here? Doesn’t he have other stuff to do?) watches Kise carry him to the bench where he can lie down with his leg up. Kise pokes at his knee; his fingers are still soft and tender but it still hurts and Aomine seizes up.

 

“It doesn’t feel swollen,” Kise says. “Does anyone have any aspirin?”

 

Takao comes over and tosses a bottle at Kise, who opens up the bottle and places two pills in Aomine’s shaking, sweaty right hand.

 

“Do you think you can sit up?” he asks.

 

Aomine nods and pulls himself up. It’s still painful. Kise helps prop him up as he pops the pills into his mouth and swallows, blanching at the bitter taste. He turns to his girls. “The moral of that story is be careful with your knees, because you only get two. Okay?”

 

They nod, mutely.

 

He waves his hand at the dressing room. “Now go get changed.”

 

The girls, whispering amongst themselves, comply.

 

Takao is hovering, wringing his hands. “Should I call Shin-chan?”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Aomine says, smiling weakly. The pain is receding; the aspirin works. “I’ll just have to stay off of it for a while.”

 

“Okay…” Takao totally doesn’t believe him, but whatever. He’s really exhausted right now so he leans back against Kise and closes his eyes, and all too soon he’s asleep.

* * *

 

He wakes up in an unfamiliar bed. The sky outside is dark. Sleepily, he finds the door and opens it into a living room where Kise is sitting on the couch, doing a crossword puzzle. He’s limping, but the leg isn’t paining him as much as he thought it would. This must, he realizes, be Kise’s place. He was probably impossible to wake up so they brought him back here. He realizes with a start that he’s still in his sweaty, rumpled suit but it can’t be helped. It’s not like Kise hasn’t seen him naked before, but they’re in such an awkward situation right now it’s almost not worth teasing him about it. Kise watches as Aomine walks over toward the couch, and Aomine can tell that he’s watching his leg. But he doesn’t say anything, still.

 

“Sorry,” Aomine says with a shrug.

 

“For what?”

 

“For inconveniencing you like this.”

 

It’s Kise’s turn to shrug. “Don’t worry about it. It’s my fault. I let Karin rope me into this.”

 

“She can be pretty unstoppable.”

 

Kise laughs. “Yeah, when she wants something this badly she usually gets it.”

 

“Is that why you came today?”

 

Kise is silent for a bit. Then, “No. I probably wouldn’t have if she didn’t tell me I had to, but I really wanted to see you again. I wanted to play against you. Even if it fucked up your knee for good, I’ve missed you.”

 

Aomine takes Kise’s hand in his, caresses it. A smile flits over Kise’s lips.

 

“I punched Midorimacchi after you dumped me,” Kise says, almost conversationally.

 

For some reason, Aomine thinks this is the funniest thing in the world and he starts giggling. Nothing about that time in his life was funny at all (nothing could make him smile at all) but looking back now half of it seems like the most ridiculous shit ever, and this is the icing on top of the cake.

 

“Aominecchi! It’s not funny! And after that, we had sex!”

 

There’s something about the way he says it that just pushes Aomine over the edge and he’s basically convulsing on the couch while Kise watches him, half amused and half annoyed.

 

After a couple of minutes, he’s ready to continue with the conversation. He sits up straight, props his knee up on the coffee table and places his hand back in Kise’s. “Listen, I was an ass. To everyone. You know, basketball was basically my whole world and I couldn’t imagine myself not playing in the NBA.”

 

And he knows Kise knows this, can see in his face that he’s not telling him anything new but he needs to get it out of his system. So he keeps going. “And I pushed everyone away, especially you, because I wanted to make you hate me. I wanted you not to pity me or take care of me or think any different of me because I couldn’t play basketball. And that’s why I wanted to play one-on-one with you so badly.”

 

Kise nods and grabs Aomine’s other hand. “I’m sorry, too. I wanted you to need me. Because I needed you, and I thought maybe this was my chance, that if I took care of you enough you would depend on me.”

 

“I did need you,” Aomine says quietly, looking down.

 

Kise shakes his head. “You have a job. You have a life. I’m not in it. You’re still you.”

 

“That’s because you can’t see me when I’m not with you.” Aomine is blushing furiously and he tells his brain to shut the fuck up right now.

 

“It’s stupid that I’ve waited ten years,” Kise mutters.

 

“It still feels right, you know?” Aomine says, picking his head up and looking into Kise’s eyes. “Not like it did when we were fighting, but like it did before.” Why won’t his brain shut up? Is this what it feels like to be Midorima? Well, Kise hasn’t punched him yet, so…the thought of Kise punching Midorima is still hilarious and he starts laughing again, but Kise’s reading his mind and knows exactly why he’s hysterical and joins him, this time.

 

“Why the fuck were we so dramatic?” Kise asks through tears of laughter.

 

“Because we were just stupid kids,” Aomine replies.

 

“I love you,” says Kise.

 

Aomine captures Kise’s lips with his own, has been waiting for this moment since forever and ever and it’s exactly as amazing as he’s built it up to be. “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> xposted to fanfiction.net
> 
> Music: "Wake Me Up When September Ends" by Green Day


End file.
